


worth everything ever wished for

by knighterrant



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (loosely), Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, it's sexy because it's repressed, some feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:01:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knighterrant/pseuds/knighterrant
Summary: Jihoon is ignoring him. Jihoon has been ignoring him for months in progressively fewer degrees. Mingyu’s presence has thawed him the way the sun might thaw a glacier. It is a slow, impossible struggle.





	worth everything ever wished for

**Author's Note:**

> it is 1 am i promise i didn't proofread this

At the moment, Mim Mingyu would best classify himself as a struggling optimist. He’s struggling with a great deal of things; a running tally of shipping manifests— cargo, hands at work, exotic destinations that he may never have the occasion to go see. He is struggling because none of his jackets fit quite right but it’s too cold to go around in the evenings without one.

Jihoon is ignoring him. Jihoon has been ignoring him for months in progressively fewer degrees. Mingyu’s presence has thawed him the way the sun might thaw a glacier. It is a slow, impossible struggle.

It is a struggle nonetheless and it is the one at the front of Mingyu’s mind.

On a usual evening, they eat together and then avoid each other until one of them gives in and goes to sleep. Usually, that’s Mingyu’s job because no matter the cost, Jihoon can find a way to occupy himself far later into the night than any man should.

Tonight is unusual. When Mingyu quietly opens the door to let himself into the bedroom, Jihoon is already there. He must have just finished washing in the basin because there is water around his temples, dampening the fine edge of is hair. The nightshirt he has on is thin, not yet tied around his neck. It reveals the hollow of his throat, so pale that even in the yellow light of the Mingyu can almost see the thin blue streams of his veins.

He wonders if Jihoon’s wrists are the same way. Jihoon has never undressed around Mingyu enough for him to know.

Too late Mingyu realizes he’s been staring at Jihoon’s exposed skin. Jihoon’s nearly relaxed expression turns immediately turns into the scowl that Mingyu is more familiar with.

Mingyu hesitates in the doorway, his hand on the cold wood.

“Are you going to bed?” Jihoon asks, his small fingers flying up to the loose laces of his shirt.

“I…” Mingyu coughs the single syllable out, shaking his head. “Yes.”

“Then shut the door,” Jihoon says. He flatters Mingyu with a brief roll of his eyes before he turns away.

Mingyu obeys, pushing it closed and swallowing hard twice. It makes no sense that the bedroom suddenly feels so tight. There is plenty of space for the both of them to lead two separate lives. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the extra space but it’s disorienting to find the walls closer than usual.

He flutters around for longer than usual in getting ready for bed. There is a screen for him to undress and wash behind but he is still acutely aware of Jihoon on the other side, already laying under the thick blankets.

He could be asleep already. Some nights he sleeps so still and so quietly that Mingyu isn’t sure he’s even still there.

Jihoon is reading a book when Mingyu is ready to climb into bed. He doesn’t spare even a glance when the bed dips under Mingyu’s weight. Mingyu is aware of every moment that he makes in trying to get comfortable, the way it jostles Jihoon closer to him in millimeters. 

Eventually, Jihoon closes the book with a snap and looks over at him. “I thought you were going to sleep.”

Mingyu dares to smile at him. “I’m just settling in.”

Jihoon’s eyes narrow, his chin lifted up slightly to look at Mingyu’s face. The distance is less like this, with Mingyu slumped over on his back and Jihoon still sitting upright.

Jihoon doesn’t smile back. It’s a loss Mingyu is used to. He goes back to reading and Mingyu goes back to trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, even with the lights on.

His thigh brushes against Jihoon’s under the blankets. The unexpected bump makes him jolt, sitting upright again.

“Mingyu,” Jihoon says, his voice dropping into irritation.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. It’s a reflex and as soon as he says it he almost wants to take it back. It is so rare that he gets a chance to steal a quick touch from Jihoon.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jihoon asks, still annoyed. Mingyu shakes his head, gathering the blankets in his hands.

“I’m just restless,” Mingyu says, clearing his throat. Mingyu carefully stretches his leg out until his knee brushes against Jihoon’s leg again. He has to test these boundaries every once in awhile. Jihoon isn’t immovable. At first he wouldn’t even consider sleeping in the same bed as Mingyu. He spent the nights on the fine upholstered settee in his office.

Jihoon’s expression goes frustrated and dark and Mingyu knows he’s pushed his luck a little too far. It wouldn’t be the first time and it almost certainly won’t be the last. Rather than shove away or leave the bed, Jihoon sinks his teeth into his lower lip, regarding Mingyu like one might a disorderly pet.

His leg is still pressed against Mingyu’s. His focus seems to wander back to it because he pulls away. It only lasts a moment. Jihoon twists so his knees are planted on the bed, one of them between Mingyu’s legs.

In the strictest sense, they are not touching. This is still the closest that Jihoon has ever been to him. They kissed at the wedding, as they were supposed to. There have been a few more kisses since then— public, fleeting, only meant to reaffirm a sense that they have some affection for each other.

This is not for anyone else to see. Jihoon puts one hand on Mingyu’s shoulder to balance his weight and Mingyu stops breathing.

“If I tell you to hold still are you going to listen to me?” Jihoon asks, digging his fingers into Mingyu’s shoulder. Mingyu takes a shallow breath and nods. He’s not sure if the direction is meant to already apply or not.

Tentatively, Jihoon’s weight settles in Mingyu’s lap. Small as he is, his whole body is dense with muscle and he isn’t quite as light as he seems. Mingyu almost does something stupid— puts his hands on Jihoon’s thighs or pushes them together chest-to-chest.

“Don’t move,” Jihoon says, lower and heavier in tone. Jihoon’s hand leaves Mingyu’s shoulder and after a moment he’s pulling open the laces that hold the front of his shirt closed.

He doesn’t put his mouth on Mingyu’s. He goes for the side of Mingyu’s neck instead, breath hot on his skin. It surprises a throaty sound out of Mingyu’s mouth, tilting his head back to expose even more flesh for Jihoon to dig the sharp points of teeth into.

This is vast uncharted territory when it comes to Jihoon. He puts his hands on Jihoon’s back, at the dip of his waist. Jihoon doesn’t protest being touched. Mingyu remembers trying to hold Jihoon’s hand after dragging him out to the theater for the evening and Jihoon whipping his hand away as soon as Mingyu’s fingers touched his.

Jihoon’s hands are on his chest, pushing into the muscle. The touch is slow, mapping the details. Mingyu opens his mouth; maybe to ask what he’s doing, maybe to ask Jihoon for more.

He doesn’t get the chance. Jihoon puts his lips to Mingyu’s open mouth. It’s a different kind of kissing than Mingyu thinks about when his romantic daydreams catch up to him. He doesn’t kiss Mingyu with any tenderness. Mingyu wants to know what that feels like— he’s been trying to earn it for months.

This is a different kind of kiss. Jihoon’s lips against his are hard enough to bruise and he barely gives Mingyu a chance to breathe. 

Mingyu shifts for the first time, trying to move his hips so Jihoon’s weight on top of him is less present, less obvious. Jihoon hisses when he notices, bearing down harder against Mingyu. His knee slips forward on the sheets until his thigh is pressed into Mingyu’s groin.

The pressure makes what little blood isn’t occupied elsewhere flood into Mingyu’s face, coloring it pink. He’s aroused in a way that would be impossible to hide even if Jihoon wasn’t literally on top of him. With Jihoon so close it’s even worse. Jihoon shifts his leg like he’s testing his weight, increasing the pressure and pulling away again.

A sharp breath hisses out between Mingyu’s teeth. 

“Don’t move,” Jihoon says, pushing Mingyu back against the pillows. There’s a fiendish delight on his face. Maybe he thinks he’s trapped Mingyu right where he wants him. Mingyu has wanted to be right here all along.

He rolls his hips down against Mingyu’s, his cock pressing hot and hard against Mingyu’s thigh. Mingyu gasps like a lightning bolt has just struck him in the belly and leaves his skin crackling with longing. Jihoon hasn’t bothered to undress or even loosen the laces of his shirt. He is as much a mystery as he’s always been.

His hand goes to the small of Jihoon’s back, guiding the rhythm of his hips. Jihoon’s usual coldness falls to pieces— mouth open, sweat sticking his bangs to his forehead and his shirt to his collarbone, thighs twitching with the urgent need for release.

Mingyu leans forward and kisses Jihoon, sloppy, too eager for it. Jihoon breathes in sharply but kisses him back, biting Mingyu’s lower lip until his mouth is salty and metallic. The sting only makes Mingyu more focused on everything else, every hot point of contact between their bodies.

It shouldn’t feel so illicit to have his hands on the man he’s married to.

“Jihoon.” Mingyu is almost scared to say his name. He doesn’t want to break the spell Jihoon is under. Jihoon shakes his head and rocks his hips forward again, groaning against the side of Mingyu’s neck.

“Stay,” Jihoon says, so low it’s barely more than a vibration. Mingyu curls his fingers in the back of Jihoon’s shirt, trying to pull him closer. On top of him, Jihoon doesn’t feel half as delicate as he looks. He moves with the grace of a predator, holding Mingyu still and trying to take what he’s looking for.

Mingyu wishes he could make Jihoon see that he would be glad to give up everything he has.

He puts both hands on Jihoon’s thighs, digging his fingers into the tight muscles. Jihoon shivers, his eyes fluttering closed. They’re so close that Mingyu could count every hair that makes up the dark fan of his eyelashes.

Jihoon jerks his hips twice out of rhythm and makes a faltering, vulnerable sound— it almost forms the shape of Mingyu’s name. He settles into Mingyu’s lap, his eyes still closed, breathing fast and uneven.

Mingyu is as hard as he’s ever been in his life and even with Jihoon still and apparently satisfied on top of him it shows no signs of going away on its own. 

He sits up slowly, chest still heaving for air. Jihoon puts his fingers on Mingyu’s neck, pressing down where his teeth carved a mark into the tanned skin. On instinct, Mingyu rolls his hips up into Jihoon’s again, trying to take advantage of the friction he can manage. Jihoon’s expression sparks to life again, fingers catching under Mingyu’s jaw.

Mingyu doesn’t resist, his lips parted, letting Jihoon twist his head to the side. 

“Is this how I’m supposed to get you to sleep?” Jihoon asks. The derision doesn’t sting Mingyu’s pride the way it usually does. Jihoon isn’t pushing him back into the pillows anymore so much as balancing his weight against Mingyu’s chest. Mingyu is soft and pliable as clay, hoping Jihoon’s hands will try to mould him.

Jihoon shifts his leg back and Mingyu whines in protest, trying to push forward and chase after the friction. But Jihoon shakes his head and Mingyu stops, biting the inside of his cheek. Jihoon releases his jaw and works his hand in between their bodies instead. His small fingers close around Mingyu’s cock, feeling the shape of it through his pants.

Curious at first, Jihoon quickly gains confidence in touching him. Mingyu must make it easy— everything feels good, everything makes him plead for more in soft, desperate sounds. Jihoon pushes his hand between the waist of Mingyu’s pants and his skin, touching Mingyu skin-to-skin.

Mingyu grabs at Jihoon’s other wrist, pulling the cuff of his sleeve out of his way and putting his mouth to the delicate flesh. He bites down hard enough to leave dark indents from his teeth and Jihoon’s thumb traces the damp slit of his cock. He cants his hips up helplessly, chasing the slow stroke of Jihoon’s fist.

It doesn’t take much for Jihoon to work him over the edge, as much as Mingyu would like to hold on and relish the rare opportunity to be touched. There’s no promise that Jihoon will do any of this again. He may just as well go back to looking at Mingyu in the morning like he wants to tear his guts out.

But at the moment, Mingyu can feel the heat of Jihoon’s breath on the shell of his ear, speaking as softly as Mingyu has ever heard him.

“There,” he says, his hand making a lewd, slick sound between Mingyu’s legs. “You can let go for me.”

Mingyu turns his head and kisses Jihoon’s palm, his shoulders shaking as he slips over the final edge of his orgasm. His spine goes hot and liquid and it’s impossible to watch the expression Jihoon makes when he realizes it.

After a moment, he pulls his hand away. Mingyu catches sight of the pearly strings of come attached to his fingers and has to quickly look at something else in the room— anything else.

Jihoon heaves himself out of Mingyu’s lap and off of the bed without bothering to explain. By the time he’s finished cleaning himself up once more, Mingyu has already drifted off to sleep.


End file.
